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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29736219">black magic</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterscotchlatte/pseuds/butterscotchlatte'>butterscotchlatte</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, M/M, Romance, incredibly light dubcon just to be safe but also like not really at all, nrc is a university</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:47:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,028</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29736219</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterscotchlatte/pseuds/butterscotchlatte</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>If Rook refused to love him of his own accord, Vil would take matters into his own hands.<i></i></i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rook Hunt/Vil Schoenheit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>black magic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>yes this is literally an entire fic inspired by the iconic little mix banger black magic bc I am the goofiest bitch alive apparently</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">A single sprig of rosemary<br/>
</span> <span class="s1">A generous dash of honey<br/>
</span> <span class="s1">A pinch of brown sugar<br/>
</span> <span class="s1">Six rose petals, red.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Vil murmured the final portion of the recipe aloud to himself, glancing at the corresponding ingredients on his desk in turn as he read out each line. Check, check, check. Everything was in place.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He forced himself to breathe slowly and deeply as he stirred the potion with stubbornly trembling hands, he had made his decision and there was no going back now. When a pleasantly sweet aroma filled the air he knew he had been successful, that he had finally mastered the rather difficult recipe and that its effects would be sufficiently potent.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">If Rook refused to love him of his own accord, Vil would take matters into his own hands.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s2">Gliding down the hall to Rook's bedroom, Vil was desperate to silence the incessant doubts in the back of his mind. </span><span class="s1">He wasn't doing anything wrong.</span><span class="s2"> Was he not beautiful? Was he not desirable?</span> <span class="s2">Surely Rook was capable of loving him as Vil loved him in return, surely he simply needed a little </span><em><span class="s1">encouragement</span></em><span class="s2"> to bring those feelings to the forefront.<br/>
No, he wasn't doing anything wrong at all.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He couldn't make sense, therefore, of the anxious, guilty pounding of his heart as he rapped swiftly at Rook's door. The pale pink love potion was glistening in his hand, cold and sweet and almost iridescent in the mottled afternoon light. It looked and smelled like a fruit flavoured soda of the kind one might pick up if just to capture its prettiness for Magicam, only to take a few sips and feel quite overpowered by its sugariness. Nothing Rook should necessarily question.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">When he finally answered the door it was with his usual bright smile and open demeanour. So lovely, so charming, so trusting. Vil's heart clenched.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s2">"</span><em><span class="s1">Roi du Poison</span></em><span class="s2">! Please, come in, to what do I owe the pleasure? Oh! Is this for me?"<br/>
</span> <span class="s2">Vil nodded, a little too fast and a little too hard, and pressed the delicate crystal glass which held the potion into Rook's hand.</span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s2">"I just came by to compare a few study notes, if you don't mind? I thought a refreshment was the least I could offer in exchange." he laughed humourlessly, and Rook's eyes narrowed on the potion before falling shut in time with another adoring grin.<br/>
</span><span class="s2">"Oh, how wonderfully kind! Thank you, Vil."<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</span><span class="s2">Rook was in absolute disbelief at how obvious Vil was being. Did he think a man such as himself hadn't done his research on </span> <em><span class="s1">love potions</span></em><span class="s2">? Rook lived for love, romance was his entire </span> <em><span class="s1">raison d'être</span></em><span class="s2">, and anyone who'd spent more than five minutes by his side was made aware of that whether they wanted to be or not. What's more, since when did Vil Schoenheit simply deliver drinks to his door unprompted? That he supposedly thought he could get away with this defied comprehension, and it would have been hilarious had the frenetic joy filling Rook's entire body left room for any other emotion at all.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Vil loved him. There was no other explanation, and however carefully Rook thought about it as he stared at the glass in his hand, he couldn't conceive of anything else that would motivate a person to present another with an actual love potion.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><em><span class="s1">Vil was in love with him</span></em><span class="s2">, and</span> <em><span class="s1"> of course</span></em> <span class="s2"> Rook was in love with Vil.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He would have thought that was obvious, had always assumed Vil simply knew - the way everyone else around them undoubtedly did. In his mind, Vil had cordially chosen to ignore it, perhaps in some small act of kindness from one friend to another in order to spare him from indignity and heartbreak. It was for this reason that the two had never discussed it; he had simply taken it as a known fact. As sure as Vil was the fairest of them all, so too was it beyond dispute that Rook had loved him from the moment their eyes first met.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s2">So why, then, had Vil attempted to win his affection so underhandedly? Rook could never be truly angry at him, but despite considering that anyone on earth should be lucky to be deceived by Vil in such a way, he couldn't help but feel a touch troubled. An old saying crossed his mind, </span> <em><span class="s1">All's fair in love and war,</span></em><span class="s2"> but that was never an attitude Rook liked to adhere to. As was the case in hunting, he had been taught that there were certain boundaries a gentleman should keep within to maintain the integrity of a pursuit.</span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s2">Since Vil had tried to trick him, Rook wondered if it wouldn't hurt to teach him just one small lesson in return. Whenever he imagined confessing to the love of his life, he had always pictured himself taking a tremendously careful, measured approach. He would take Vil's hands gently in his own, perhaps press a kiss to his knuckles were he feeling confident, but wouldn't dare to push further.<br/>
<br/>
Now that he knew for sure that Vil </span> <span class="s1"><em>wanted</em> him,</span><span class="s2"> that hesitance had no place. The thought of having an excuse to approach his dorm leader with no boundaries at all, bringing to life all the love he felt, the years of desire, all the dreams, the fantasies, the sonnets he'd written, </span> <span class="s1">all at once</span><span class="s2">... it may throw Vil into an utter panic, but well, wasn't he a man driven mad by a love potion?</span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s2">Under those circumstances, he couldn't be </span> <span class="s1">expected</span> <span class="s2"> to be in control of his actions.<br/>
</span><span class="s2">If Vil wanted his love, he was most certainly about to get it.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">"Why don't you take a seat?" Rook prompted suddenly, uncertain for how long Vil had been standing aimlessly in his room while he was lost in thought. He led him strategically to an ottoman by his bed, and turned on his heel so that his back was facing Vil, walking toward his thankfully open window to draw the curtains closed. Before doing so, he tipped the contents of the glass into the garden below in one fluid movement, dragging one side of the French windows shut heavily to cover the audible splash.<br/>
<br/>
When he eventually turned back to Vil it was with the empty glass to his lips, and if the way his lavender eyes sparkled with anticipation was any indication, Rook's admittedly crude sleight of hand seemed to have been miraculously successful. Not for the first time that day, he wondered in amusement if his queen wasn't just a little less practiced in the art of manipulation than he'd always been led to believe.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Vil looked like a beautiful sculpture, sitting perfectly straight and still and anxiously staring into Rook's eyes, clearly waiting for a reaction. He was everything Rook had ever dreamed of, and the knowledge that he was finally in a position to make that clear was almost too exciting to bear.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">He placed the empty glass on his dressing table and stalked toward Vil slowly, never breaking eye contact. There was no point saying anything, no use wasting time, he didn't want to subject either of them to any more unnecessary waiting.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s2">Once they were finally face to face, </span>the brief flash of a smile was all the warning Vil received before Rook hoisted him into his arms. Vil yelped in surprise, clinging frantically to the hunter's neck as his legs were drawn around a sturdy waist and he was backed into a wall.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2"><em>"Mon</em> <em>amour</em>," Rook breathed, words he had applied to his beloved Vil countless times in the privacy of his own mind, finally given a voice.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s2">Rook took a moment to study Vil's wide eyes, ensuring he truly wanted this too before allowing the fraying tether of his self control to irreversibly snap. Even through the thick fabric of his beautiful robes Rook could feel his heart fluttering, could almost taste the honeyed tea on his warm breath. When he felt Vil readjust his hands to link comfortably at the base of Rook's neck, he knew he wasn't afraid of him.<br/>
The last of his willpower dissolved in a heartbeat.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</span><span class="s2">This was a worst case scenario. Vil had checked and double checked the recipe, his measurements had been as exact as they could be considering the somewhat vague nature of many of the steps. The effects were supposed to be gradual. He had expected Rook to adopt a flirtatious air, a </span> <em><span class="s1">hug</span></em> <span class="s2"> perhaps, not to be pinned against a wall with Rook's hands on his ass and his lips on his neck within seconds. It wasn't that it was an undesirable position to be in, exactly, but the fact that the potion had obviously been far, far too strong was cause for a great deal of concern.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Vil's thoughts were very quickly interrupted when Rook spoke again between feverish kisses pressed against his throat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">"My beautiful, precious Vil," he gasped, nuzzling at his jaw. Rook's strong body was trapping him in place, and Vil didn't want to admit to himself that it all felt simply incredible, didn't want to think about how none of it was real. As wonderful as it was, it was merely the disingenuous product of his own selfish meddling.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s2">"Do you know how long I have wanted to taste you? This porcelain skin is more delicious than I could ever have dreamed..."<br/>
Vil inhaled sharply when he felt Rook suck at the skin of his neck surely hard enough to leave a bruise. Once he was satisfied with the mark he had created, he lifted his head and connected their lips for the first time. Vil could barely think around the intensity and unpredictability of the kiss, every time he fell into a rhythm Rook would pull back, pausing to peck at Vil's nose or cheeks before licking into his mouth once again. His every move was absolutely frenzied, passionate like Vil had never seen him, never seen </span> <em><span class="s1">anyone</span></em><span class="s2">.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">"You are absolute perfection, every inch of you. The most gorgeous thing I have ever seen in my life," he was rambling incessantly, and Vil had to wrap his thighs even tighter around his body to keep himself from falling as one of the hands holding him up came to lovingly remove his crown and entangle itself in a thick braid.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s2">"I could spend every second of the day staring at you, and I </span><em> <span class="s1">do</span></em><span class="s2">, you know that I do."<br/>
</span><span class="s2">There was yet another smattering of quick kisses across Vil's blushing face before he continued.<br/>
</span><span class="s2">"If only you could read my thoughts </span> <span class="s1"><em>mon coeur</em>; </span> <span class="s2">oh the things I've dreamed of doing to you."</span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s2">Vil didn't dare speak, just looked down at Rook's delirious face as contentment and fear washed over him in equal measures. He knew he had made a mistake to say the very least. His breath caught in his throat when Rook's fingers ceased their gentle stroking of his hair and made to begin removing his outer robe.<br/>
</span>"Please, let me show you..."</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">It was at that point that he couldn't take any more, knew he couldn't allow Rook to do something he would regret while he wasn't in control of his actions. Swallowing his pride, he felt heat prickle at the corners of his eyes when he cried out for Rook to stop. All at once seeming surprisingly lucid, Rook stilled in an instant.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s2">"I'll find an antidote!" Vil practically wailed, without a thought as to how the statement may confuse Rook, face flushed with embarrassment at having to clarify his actions.<br/>
</span>Stifling a wave of distraught tears as best he could, he rushed a shameful explanation.<br/>
<br/>
"You don't know what you're doing, Rook. I gave you a potion, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-" before he could whimper out another apology, Vil was surprised to suddenly be hushed soothingly, feeling gentle lips against his skin once more.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">"Obviously I wasn't stupid enough to drink a love potion, you silly thing," he whispered affectionately, punctuating the words with a sweet kiss behind Vil's ear.<br/>
Vil froze in place, blinking in disbelief, unable to find the appropriate words to offer.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">His eventual, responding slap across Rook's face lacked any real aggression.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading, as always comments and kudos make my day!<br/><a href="https://twitter.com/maple_Iatte/">my twitter</a></p><p>
  <a href="https://twitter.com/maple_iatte/status/1365861143198142469?s=21/">sillie epilogue</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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